That's Love
by Erik deSoir
Summary: Fits within the drabble world I made, but not strictly a part of the series. Lily and James grow old, seen through the eyes of Harry and then Draco.


Title: That's Love

Author: Erik deSoir

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros. and to various publishers including but not limited to Scholastic Books, Raincoat Books, and Bloomsbury Books. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended. wails

Pairing: Mentions of H/D, James/Lily

Warning: None, really

Note: To anyone who has read the Conversation drabble series, this can fit within that 'universe.' To anyone who has not read that particular series of mine, James and Lily are alive and well. As a matter of fact, they're old and lovin' it.

Note: I received an email that had been forwarded to me. It contained a list of things a group of 4-8 year-olds said about what love means. I was inspired to write a story for each one:

"When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love." Rebecca- age 8

_Present time_

He watched their ritual from the doorway. It made him smile to see it, made him smile every time. He felt arms wrap around his middle and a chin rest on his shoulder. He turned to press his cheek against the other's and sighed a happy little sigh.

He remembered what started this. It had been long ago, and quite a bit more painful than today.

_Earlier in time_

"Harry, will you come and open this jar for me?"

"Sure thing, Mum."

"Thank you, darling."

Harry turned his back to his mother and finished setting the table. When he was done, he quietly slipped out and joined his father on the back patio. Settling into a chair, he looked at his dad.

"It's getting worse."

James eyed his son warily and said, "Yes, I'm well aware of that."

"Well, can't anything be done?"

James sighed and looked out over the yard, "Yes, I'm sure there could be, if she would acknowledge the problem and seek help."

Harry sighed and looked over the garden his mother built. He remembered spending hours outside, she just barely out of sight in her big sunhat and white gloves.

He shook his head and said, "Can't you do something? If this goes on too long, there won't be anything magic can do for her."

James looked at his son again and said, "I'm well aware of that, too."

"I'm sorry, Dad, but it's frustrating." Harry moved a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, I know."

_Earlier in time, but some time has passed between this and the section above_

James leaned back and listened. He loved the sound his wife made at the piano. It was such a beautiful instrument anyway, but there was something about the way she played it. She seemed to make it breathe, to make it live.

She sat there at the bench now and rocked gently with the music she made, her once-auburn hair swaying. Her eyes closed, she let her fingers find the right path. The melancholy tune filtering through the room. He let it wash over him in waves. The feeling behind it, her feelings made music made him want to scream with grief.

_Present time_

As Harry and Draco stood in the doorway, Lily looked up and smiled. She waved them in saying, "When did you two get here?"

"Just a moment ago. Didn't want to disturb anything," Draco said.

"Oh pish. James is just doing my nails!" Lily said with laughter in her voice.

James, who was indeed sitting on the floor with a foot in his lap, looked up and grimaced. He pinched the bottom of her foot and said, "And if I hear that giggle again I won't finish. Won't you look silly walking 'round with only half your nails done." She wiggled her toes at him in response and giggled.

As James finished with her right foot, he hauled up her left foot and began the process all over again.

Draco watched in fascination. He had always known his parents were never like the Potters, but this took it to a whole new level. Here sat Lily, hands wrought with arthritis, unable to keep a grip on the nail polish wand, with her husband at her feet. James, stubborn man, couldn't very well hold onto the handle any better than she, but there he was, painting her toenails for her.

He couldn't understand it. James had known he was getting arthritis. He could have prevented it. Hell, Lily could have prevented it had she not denied ever getting it. But James, he saw what Lily suffered, he knew the signs! Why did he too allow himself to succumb to such a malady?

As he and Harry entered their own home that evening, Harry, who had been watching Draco at his parents' home, put his head on Draco's shoulder and said, "That's love."


End file.
